There’s something about watching the sun rise. To see the darkness fade and the sky begin to thaw. To see the rays of gold peaking over the horizon, ready to break through in a blaze.
Dawn – when the fullness of the day is yet to unfold.
And today I pause here. Before the darkness has fully dissipated and the sun is only just beginning its journey into the new day.
This is where hope resides. Stirring in the darkness and watching for the first glimmer of light.
At Easter, we have Saturday, wedged between the day of crucifixion and the day of resurrection. An almost nothing day. Except it feels like being at the edge of the Dawn. Suspended. Nothing moving.
A day where the sorrow of yesterday is still raw, where faith can be shaky and our hearts fragile. And when we can do nothing but wait – wait for the answer, the miracle. Wait and hope for Sunday to come.
God is with us in this inbetween, the gap between the broken and the healed; the promise and its fulfilment. He’s with us in the waiting and the mourning. He is with us in the silence.
The coming of the new day may take time, our Saturday may not rush into Resurrection Sunday as quickly as we hope.
But it is coming. It will come.
Joy comes in the morning.
Blue Skies & Lollipops 